Lights
by WolfShadow's-darkmoon
Summary: Every year Harry stays at Hogwarts for Christmas, especially this year...his last. Where he find himself sitting on the cold stone floor of the great hall, mourning...


Christmas fic.

Suddenly Snow

There were very few Christmas's that Harry potter felt were worth mention. Especially having spent so many of them with the Dursley's, where a sock was enough a gift for the malnourished boy living in their cupboard. So no, Harry Potter didn't have happy memories of Christmas. None in fact until his first year spent in Hogwarts. He was happy to be staying at Hogwarts his first year, and the year after that, and the year after that.

For all that he was usually alone; the cold halls of Hogwarts held more warmth then his relatives' home. And this was why no amount of begging, or any guilt trips from Ron could convince him to spend Christmas away from here. After all this was the last year the boy-who-lived could take comfort in the one place he had always called home.

So this is Christmas  
And what have you done  
Another year's over  
New one's just begun  
So this is Christmas  
I hope you have fun  
The near and the dear ones  
The old and the young,

So yes…Harry was sad as he waved goodbye to Ron and Hermione, sad that once more he would seek a little joy from this sentinel of a castle, even if it meant reliving the horrors of what had happened here. He turned, following Hagrid inside to the warmly decorated great hall and sat back to decide what tree was his favorite this year while sipping at a warm butterbeer.

Contemplating, as he spent much his time doing so these days, how little Voldemorts death had changed things.

After the war Harry had spent a long time wandering the halls like a ghost, a murdering ghost...when finally he began to return to the world as something more than an empty shell all he could do was count the people missing and gone and stare aimlessly at the damaged portions of the halls and grounds of Hogwarts.

A merry, merry christmas  
And a happy new year  
Let's hope it's a good one  
Without any fear

He was jumpy, flinching at every little thing…first years running in the hallways, the sound of a bat hitting a bludger, professors yelling at other students…enough so that even Snape quit yelling at him. The worst was his sensitivity to magic, even so he forced himself to continue with the DA and dueling club, if only to remind himself that there was a reason he was did what he did.

He had selfish reasons for not wanting to spend time with the Weasley's as well. Things he barley wanted to think about but still acknowledged when he forced himself to. The sad look in Mrs. Weasley's eyes every time she looked at him, George's habit of having one sided conversations and staring at open air, Bill's scars….  
All his fault.

So this is christmas  
For weak and for strong  
The rich and the poor ones  
The road is so long  
So happy christmas  
For black and for white  
For yellow and red ones  
Let's stop all the fight

Christmas eve, Harry could never sleep, his head was full of half remembered times of happiness, and nightmares, and voices of people he never knew. He could never stay in bed, so he usually ended up in the common room staring into a dying fire until he couldn't take the restlessness any longer. Always he ended up digging through his trunk for his invisibility cloak, and a very worn and used photo album.

Before making the short easy journey to the great hall where he sat himself cross legged on the cold floor, discarded his cloak and opening the album to the back. He always started in the back to the place where he had added many photo's himself. The first was a photo of Bill Weasley at his wedding.

Then one of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, carefully he touched each of their faces while they stared solemnly up at him.

Sirius' face brought tears to his eyes and he watched for a long time the laughing face of his godfather before he continued.

A merry, merry christmas  
And a happy new year  
Let's hope it's a good one  
Without any fear

Dumbledore looked at him sadly when Harry got to his picture, whispering quietly to the air, "I'm sorry I killed you,"

Slowly the list grew: Amelia Bones, Emmeline Vance, Florean Fortescue, Hedwig, Alastor Moody, Rufus Scrimgeour, Ted Tonks, Gornuk, Dobby, Fres Weadley, Collen Creevey…  
Pictures Harry had begged to get, some cut out of the Prophet, others stolen from Order records. All deaths caused by a war Harry should have ended sooner…and that was what he mourned. That and when finally he got to the picture of his parents, he mourned his own loss of childhood, and a family of his own.

"Sneaking out again ?"

Snape's voice caused the boy to flinch, a shaking hand flipping the album shut to avoid ridicule from the man standing behind him, a carful breath and Harry answered softly, "Sorry Professor, I couldn't sleep."

Severus Snape studied the hunched over shoulders, from his spot against the wall where he had been watching the boy mourn for some time. The tightly controlled sobs wracked the form, barley making a sound, something he knew personally was caused from years of avoiding attention from any sign of weakness. "I find that I am able to forgive you this, Harry."

He spoke quietly without thinking and his words were met by an intense silence.

A merry, merry christmas  
And a happy new year  
Let's hope it's a good one  
Without any fear

Finally, "Why?" The word soft and broken, shaken by grief, and yet a dull light of hope glimmering in the depths and Severus realized what it was the boy wanted most and was never given. Slowly he walked forward, close enough to touch the still kneeling boy, caught in the depths of his green eyes.

Softly he ran his fingers comfortingly through soft, wild locks, "Because it wasn't your fault Harry," Forgiving the boy of something completely different then sneaking out at night, and far more important besides.

The boys eyes, Harry's eyes, filled with tears, a small broken sound leaving his chest and Severus found himself kneeling and gathering the seventeen year old to his chest, stroking his spine and combing through his hair.

"Everything that happened was outside your control, Harry Potter, and you were forced to do things that grown men would not."

He paused listening for quiet, ragged breath, "You are free, we are free,"

His voice filled with awe as he convinced himself of that truth.

War is over  
War is overWar is over now-

The boy struggled to sit up, gazing into his eyes, Severus' arms loosely around him, protecting rather than restraining, "Free?" His voice was hesitant and rough, like a man thirsting for water in the desert…

"Free." Severus agreed with a nod, pulling the boys head to his chest, and rocking the man like a child, all in the glow of a thousand sparkling lights.


End file.
